


From Here We Go Forth

by Talimee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Female Rulers, Gen, Power Dynamics, Slice of Life, opposite points of oppinion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 17:40:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12611880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talimee/pseuds/Talimee
Summary: Lyanna Mormont's legacy opens up a possibility for Daenerys to reward Jorah Mormont for the services he has done for her. But will the North accept this?





	From Here We Go Forth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ithredel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithredel/gifts).



> Somewhere on this planet it's still your birthday.

The road had frozen again over night; deep cart grooves and razor sharp edges that made riding on it near impossible. They kept to the side of the track, then, walking their horses more than edging them on, even though the day was passing by more quickly than they liked. Still, there was no rush, they had food enough and firewood aplenty within their reach. No sense in tiring out their mounts on an idiotic spur of haste.

Winter was going, a new Spring coming and she was alive to see it. Who would've thought …

 

Winterfell loomed on the horizon a few days later. A dark, crouching shadow, broad-spread with few high towers. A castle that was as much a part of the land it stood in as the distant mountains or the frost in the ground. Under the endless white sky it sat there as if brooding. No sight of the high spiralling towers of the South, no colourful banners streaming in the wind. Even with Spring approaching this was a stern place.

“Black and white as far as the eye can see”, she said to herself but her companion heard it.

“The North is a place of black and white. And of firm decisions. The people here are not good at Grey.”

“Thank you, Lord Tyrion”, Daenerys said. “I entertain high hopes that Lady Sansa can see the reason in our request. There _is_ Grey in the Stark banner, after all.”

 

The outer courtyards still showed signs of recent battles. Some walls had crumbled down, others were in various states of repair. There was wood and heaps of old snow everywhere. And people, so many people. Most of them worked somewhere on the walls, but some were in the middle of packing their stuff and moving out. Barely anyone looked at her and her entourage as they rode through courtyard after courtyard to the inner castle; Soldiers and riders were a common sight and the smallfolk had learned to just step out of the way.

Lady Sansa Stark waited for them outside the main keep. Her entourage was small as well; one giant of a man, one rather petite woman. Daenerys looked at Sansa while she dismounted: She stood erect, her back straight as an arrow. She was not at ease.

“Sweet fucking Stranger and Crone! Is that Clegane? Brute's even uglier now”, she heard Lord Tyrion mutter under his breath and her eyes darted to the shadow standing behind Lady Stark. Their eyes met for a second. Then the Lady stepped forward and Daenery's attention was drawn back to the two women before her. A stab of pain went through her heart as she saw the sombre Northern features of the smaller one. A long face, black hair, grey eyes.

Her look fled back to the Lady of Winterfell and her curtsy. Her copper hair was the only thing of colour in this black-and-white world. A glaring red wound.

 

“I cannot agree to your request. And I will not.”

Daenerys sat on a wooden throne in front of Sansa Stark. A large table between them and the Great Hall filled with silent, fur-bedecked people. A threat? To whom?

“Lyanna Mormont is dying”, Daenerys said. “Her sisters are either dead or missing. He is the only adult left to carry on the Mormont-name.”

“Lyanna Mormont has named her niece as heir”, Sansa said. “We will honour her wish.”

“A child of six.”

Lady Sansa nodded. “She will be taught everything she needs to know. In the meantime, Bear Island will be under supervision of a steward.”

“Let that steward be Jorah Mormont, then”, Lord Tyrion cut in. “He knows the land and the people. And he has reasons to want to redeem himself.”

“He has redeemed himself in my eyes”, the queen said.

“What he did is beyond redemption”, Lady Stark countered. “He sold Northerners into slavery, he was sentenced to die and he fled judgement.”

“He has saved me and my cause over and over again. He went through hell, for me.”

“Then it is clear where his loyalty lies.”

“Not in the North”, someone shouted from the crowd and was approved with shouts and claps. A small smile twitched around Lady Sansa's mouth.

“I could order it”, Daenerys said matter-of-factly and watched Sansa's smile withdraw. The murmurs and whispered commentaries that had floated around in the Great Hall dropped like a headman's axe.

“You could”, Lady Stark said when the silence became nigh unbearable. “But, as the Queen that you are, I believe that you know that loyalty cannot be bought and even less _ordered_ into existence.”

 

“There”, Daenerys said and ended her name with a flourish before reaching for wax and seal. “It is done. Alysane Mormont's daughter will inherit seat and house Mormont, and after her the child _she_ names – trueborn or not, son or daughter – will continue the line.”

“Thank you.” Sansa Stark turned away from the large fireplace where she had been standing and came over to sit in an armchair next to Daenerys. She looked more open, relieved. Maybe she was. The Long Winter and the excruciating war it had brought were just over. There was no need to refresh the old hostilities between North and South.

“Was the audience in the Great Hall necessary?” Daenerys had to ask. “All these knights and northmen to frighten me, or to bolster your courage?”

“You tell me.” Sansa took a sip of wine. “We are women, not groomed for command but yet finding ourselves in power and under the scrutiny of those who begrudge us our position. If what Jon told us is true, you have learned that loyalty is a form of love and needs to be earned. I have learned that true leadership and justice need to be worked in the open and seen by the people it concerns. And the men of the old order have learned today that they are not entitled to their position if there is someone else who can fill it just as well.”

Daenerys felt herself smile at that. Yara Greyjoy, Sansa Stark, Daenerys Targaryen and Lyanna Mormont … “What a strange new world we are creating”, she said with satisfaction.

 


End file.
